The Price of Victory
by The Emmanator
Summary: Voldemort's rebounding curse was the end of him, for good, in 1981, and Harry Potter is the lone survivor of the attack. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are abruptly thrust into parenthood, and must strive to give Harry the life he deserves. RemusSirius
1. November 2nd, 1981

A/N: This is SERIOUS AU from the actual Harry Potter series. Voldemort didn't make any Horcruxes, and thus when Lily died to protect Harry, the rebounding curse killed Voldemort totally dead. It's hypothetical, yes. It's also based off an RPG I had with a few friends sometime last year, but it died off and so I revived the idea in fanfiction form.

This fic is written in a series of days between November 1981 and October 1982, following the lives of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Regulus Black and Barty Crouch, with various other characters appearing in between. This will contain themes of slash.

I do love feedback!

* * *

The Price of Victory:

November 2nd, 1981

* * *

_November 2__nd__, 1981, approximately 6:10 PM, Sirius Black is forced to wait. _

Sirius Black was pacing impatiently. Yesterday, in the early hours of the morning, he received a letter from Albus Dumbledore, informing him the circumstances behind the death of a certain Dark Lord, his best friends and his godson's involvement with this death, and what would have to be done now, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

So he paced the flat. It was around this time that Dumbledore informed him that, if there were no unforeseen complications, Rubeus Hagrid would be delivering Harry Potter to his flat, as he would now be in his custody until he was of age.

Sirius had no concept of how to take care of a one-year-old, he spent yesterday shopping for any kind of book that would help him. He had babysat Harry, of course, and spoiled him with gifts and affection. But he had never fed a baby, or changed a diaper, or anything ridiculous like that. He didn't know what he would do.

And there was the lingering fear of a traitor. Well, he knew who the traitor was. He had asked James and Lily Potter to change their Secret Keeper to Peter Pettigrew, because there was no doubt in his mind that Peter Pettigrew was not a Death Eater. But if someone else close to them was, and Sirius didn't know…he could slip something and be the death of Lily and James.

So they had switched. The mistake might haunt him forever.

He had written his other, his only remaining, best friend, Remus Lupin, to inform him of the switch, and the deaths, yesterday.

So Remus wouldn't believe him to be the traitor.

The fact that Dumbledore would entrust him with The Boy Who Lived was proof enough to anyone he was not the traitor.

There was a loud knock on the door, and Sirius practically ran to it and flung it open with so much force the towering figure that was Rubeus Hagrid took a step back. Hagrid was alarming in appearance, over eight feet tall, and wider than any normal human being, with wild black hair and a matching beard. But anyone who was around him for more than a couple of minutes knew he was as gentle as they came.

"Well, good evenin' to you too, Sirius," Hagrid said gruffly. He ducked and squeezed himself inside the flat. He had a knapsack that appeared tiny in proportion to him on his shoulder, and a small bundle in his right hand. He carefully handed Sirius the bundle, which was the sleeping baby that had, apparently, saved the Wizarding World.

"There's ev'rything you need here in this," Hagrid said, setting down the knapsack beside the sofa. "And a letter from Dumbledore explainin'…well, a lot of stuff, and if ya need any help with him at all, contact Dumbledore."

Sirius nodded, his throat constricted at the sight of his godson, peaceful, asleep, unaware.

Hagrid patted him (he nearly fell over) on the shoulder. "It'll be okay, Sirius, things will be okay," he said sadly. "I can't even believe it meself, half the time."

He nodded again, completely mute.

"Take good care o' Harry, he's yours now."

With that, Hagrid left the flat (with much struggling, of course), and Sirius was left alone with the sleeping baby. He found a safe place to lay Harry down as he unpacked the bag full of baby clothes, toys, a crib, and various other objects. He realized then that he had no space for a baby, or to raise a child, or for a rowdy teenager.

Sirius groaned, setting up the crib in his own bedroom for the time being. He would have to move before Christmas came around. He would have to find Harry playmates and toys, he would have to learn, very quickly, how to become a parent.

The fact of the matter was that Sirius Black could not do it alone…

_November 2nd, 1981, approximately 7:00 PM, Regulus Black reads the newspaper. _

Regulus Black was stretched out on a knotty, dirty old sofa, flipping through the _Evening Prophet, _while the shower in the other room is running, his roommate, Barty Crouch Jr. is showering, trying to clear his head.

Secretly, Regulus is overjoyed by the fall of the Dark Lord. He regretted joining up from the second he did it, nearly, and now he didn't have to be a Death Eater anymore. Barty wasn't quite as happy with this turn of events as Regulus was, but it kept them out of Azkaban. Barty had agreed not to join up with the other Death Eaters who were tearing up the entire country, causing panic and discord.

Barty agreed because he didn't want to go to Azkaban.

Regulus' eyes hit an article, and he yelped loudly. "Bloody hell! Barty!" he shouted, jumping off the sofa and waving the newspaper frantically.

His friend ran out of the bathroom, in nothing but a towel. "What the hell, Regulus? I thought the Aurors were busting in our door or something! Don't do shit like that!"

"Barty we've been named!" Regulus said, hysterically, brandishing the paper. "Pettigrew named us as Death Eaters to keep himself out of Azkaban!"

Barty's eyebrows furrowed, he snatched the paper away from Regulus and read the article, then flipped to the front page.

"My father's been named Minister of Magic…" he muttered. "You left that detail out?"

"I didn't look at the front page," Regulus lied, avoiding eye contact. Of course he had read the front page, he didn't tell Barty about his father's promotion because he didn't like to see his friend angry or upset.

"He's going to hold trials for everyone named as Death Eaters based on this testimony," Barty said loftily, continuing to scan the article. "We should be expecting a Ministry owl within the week then."

Regulus sat back down, running his hands through his hair distractedly.

Any day now, Walburga Black would send him an owl and tell him to come _home, _and tell him how Barty Crouch was bad news and so was his son. She would protect him from the trial and from the Minister and from his best friend.

"Are you going to go back to Grimmauld Place?" Barty asked as he walked out of the tiny sitting room to look for some pants.

"No. I don't want to. I won't be received well by Bellatrix or half of my family if they feel I've betrayed them by staying out of Azkaban."

"Right."

The coming weeks would see many of their fellow Death Eaters killed or put in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, though not many of them would be so spineless as Pettigrew to make a deal with the Ministry to keep themselves safe. Most would suffer death or Azkaban to prove their loyalty.

Barty felt it would be foolish to proclaim loyalty to a dead man, that wasn't his style. Laying low and keeping himself alive was a far more intelligent course of action. There was no help for the Dark Lord, he was dead and gone. There was still a strange pull of loyalty to his fellow Death Eaters.

But he wasn't about to get himself killed for them.

"Regulus, I have no clean pants!" he yelled suddenly, very irritated at this predicament.

_November 2nd, 1981, approximately 9:34 PM, Remus Lupin receives a letter. _

Remus Lupin didn't get a flood of post usually, but in the days since Halloween (the sound of the word just put a hole in his stomach, sometimes) he had received more post than he had in weeks.

First was a quick letter from Dumbledore, explaining the situation with Harry, Lily and James, and that Harry would be living with Sirius.

Second was Sirius' letter, explaining about how Peter had betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort.

Third was another letter from Dumbledore reassuring him that Harry had been delivered safely.

Fourth was a letter from his mother, asking him if he was alright (of course he wasn't) and telling him to come for tea soon.

Fifth was a scrap of paper with a date a week from that day, Lily and James' funeral. It was from Sirius.

The letter he received on November 2nd, and some awkward time between evening and night, was from Dumbledore. It was a very peculiar request.

_Remus, _

_I know in light of your condition you tend to isolate yourself from things, but I have a request (nay- a plea) to ask of you. As you are aware, your old friend Sirius Black is the godfather of Harry Potter, and is now his total guardian. This, I feel, was the right choice on my part. _

_But Sirius will need help. I can foresee his stubornness towards accepting such help, but I implore you to help him raise Harry to be the happy child he deserves to be. This experience has been extremely hard on all of us. But especially Sirius, I can't even begin to understand how much this has damaged him. So Remus, if you could help him in anyway, I would be forever grateful. _

_Sincerely, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

Remus reread the letter a few more times and looked around his flat. It was accommodating to him but that was about it. Sirius' couldn't be much bigger. He would discuss this all with Sirius tomorrow.

Right now he needed a drink and some rest.


	2. November 5th, 1981

Second chapter. Woohoo!

* * *

The Price of Victory

_November 5th, 1981_

* * *

_November 5__th__, 1981, approximately noon, Bartemius Crouch Jr. receives a summons_

Barty tore the heavy envelope open and read the letter, an identical one sitting on his lap addressed to Regulus.

_Dear Mr. Crouch,  
It is my duty to inform you that you have been among those named as participating in Death Eater (thus Anti-Ministry) activity. It is the responsibility of the Ministry to look into all claims of this nature, and so you are required to attend a hearing on the 9th of November, 1981, in courtroom ten, and your case will be presented to the Wizengamot. If you do not arrive willingly, you will be brought in by force.  
Signed,  
Dolores J. Umbridge  
Senior Undersecretary to the Minister._

Barty crumpled the letter up and chucked it across the room at Regulus, who was asleep on the sofa.

"Mmph, what?" he mumbled, shooting up.

"November 9th, we have a hearing," Barty said, throwing the unopened envelope to Regulus.

"You didn't read my mail for once," Regulus said.

"I can only assume that both letters say the same thing."

Regulus tore his open and read it quickly, then throwing it aside. "Actually mine said 'Hey Regulus, how about tea, love, the Minister of Magic'," he told Barty mockingly.

Barty rolled his eyes, ruffling his blond hair thoughtfully. "What are we going to do to keep out of Azkaban?" he asked.

Regulus laid back down, looking troubled. "I mean…they have no proof other than the word of Pettigrew, who obviously has shown the potential to be a traitor. We could make a case that he named you for shock value since you're the Minister's son." Barty made a contemptuous noise. "Then your dad might think that since he said you, he'd have to accuse me since we do everything together."

"We could try that," he agreed, but he seemed distant, like his mind wasn't on the hearing at all.

Truthfully, Regulus knew better than anyone how often Barty was in his own head more than he was paying attention to reality.

"Hey Barty, are you hungry?" he asked.

The blond blinked rapidly, and looked up. "Yeah sure. What do we have?"

"Not much," Regulus said with a laugh.

--

_November 5th, 1981, approximately 3:00 PM. Remus Lupin hands the keys to his flat over, preparing for a move._

"Thank you," he said again to the woman as he handed her the keys to his former flat, all of his possessions (other than furniture, which he wasn't taking with him) stuffed into a battered old trunk he had used at Hogwarts and a fraying briefcase.

He left the building, waiting until there was no one around and sneaked to the back of the old building where no one would see him Disapparate directly into Sirius Black's flat.

Sirius was sitting on the sofa, Harry on his lap, asleep.

"I've been sitting like this for an hour," Sirius whispered when Remus gestured to Harry and raised an eyebrow. "He fell asleep on me, obviously."

Remus sat down on the sofa beside his old friend.

"I've got everything in order," he said. "Now we need to find a place big enough for the three of us, I guess."

Sirius nodded. "Hopefully this place will work for the time being," he said, looking around fondly at the flat. He didn't want to leave London, but he really felt it would be better for Harry if they did. It would be safer out where nobody knew their names or faces.

"We'll find something sooner than later, I'm sure," Remus said, trying to sound confident. "How is he?" he asked.

"He doesn't cry much until he has to go to bed. He likes playing with Padfoot, it calms him down when he's riled up. He says something that sounds like Mum once in a while."

"He walks?"

"He can take some steps yeah, mostly he still holds himself up though. Once we have more room, I think it'll be easier."

"Definitely. So did you read the paper- about Peter? And…"

"Regulus. Yeah."

"I think he can get off."

Sirius snorted. "Because he's best mates with the Ministers son, of course he can get off."

"He's a Death Eater but, as far as the Order has been aware, he's never really been an active member."

"Doesn't have the nerve."

"He could get off. My only real worry is what would happen if he did."

Sirius turned his gray eyes on Remus, a look of curiosity working into them. "What?"

"The remaining free Death Eaters aren't taking lightly to the ones that worm their way out of Azkaban. The traitors, the bargainers. They've been getting attacked just as frequently as a Muggleborn or Order member."

Remus Lupin knew that Sirius Black was fiercely loyal to anyone he cared about. He knew that the split from his family had put a strain on his relationship with his younger brother, and that the Death Eater involvement had shattered it. But somehow, Remus thought that Sirius wouldn't stand for the idea that his brother (who was actually innocent by some stretch of the imagination) could be in danger.

"He can take care of himself," he said gruffly.

Harry woke up after a moment of silence, grabbing onto Remus's already fraying robes and pulling himself into Remus's lap.

He had to smile at how much he already looked like James.

The eyes were Lily's though.

"I miss them."

Sirius looked from Harry to Remus. "Me too, Moony."

For the first time since he had left Hogwarts, Sirius felt old. He felt like he had lived a thousand years and would live a thousand more. Memories of Hogwarts, of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs seemed to be a hundred years ago, memories of friendship that was ripped to pieces by war and betrayal.

"How are we going to do this?"

Remus looked thoughtful. "Write Andromeda and Ted, and write Molly Weasley."

"Molly Weasley?"

"They have six kids, one's about Harry's age, the others are older, and I think she might be having another one soon."

"They must be busy."

"She can help us! Gideon and Fabian were mates of ours, she'll want to help. She'll know we need it. And 'Dromeda too, she's got one, she's what- six or seven now? We can't do this by ourselves, and he can't just have us for company," Remus said. "We need places for him to stay when…you know."

Sirius nodded. He had forgotten.

"When he's older, he'll need friends, and we can't home school him, but Molly home schools all of her kids and would probably do it, we could pay her, we could pay her to baby sit, with six kids and another on the way, money must be tight."

Sirius agreed silently. Friends, a network, socializing, he had never thought about this. He had never planned on having a toddler shoved in his lap. "He needs company. He needs to be happy and well-adjusted. He deserves it."

"He deserves to be less damaged than us," Remus added.

Harry giggled a little on Remus' lap, trying to steal Sirius' wand out of his pocket.

--

_November 5th, 1981, Rita Skeeter acts as irritating as she is clever. _

She clicked her fingernails on the wood of the young Auror's desk. "So, what can you tell me about the upcoming trials?" she asked, her legs cross and her foot jiggling. "I've been present at all of them anyway, but any extra unreleased details would be wonderful."

The Auror, a young black man with a gold earring and a deep voice, rolled his eyes. "Miss Skeeter, the information you're ferreting around to get is unreleased for a purpose, and if you want the information, you'll have to consult my Head of Department, I'm not authorized to release any information."

"Who would be your Head, young man? There have been so many switches in the past few weeks," she asked.

"Mad-Eye," he said, pointing across the room to an alarming looking gray-haired man, with a fake eye and a missing leg.

"He'll never give me what I want," she said, pouting.

"Trust me, anything you want to know will come up in the trials, Miss," the Auror said.

"I'm not going to miss them for the world…what was your name again?"

"Shacklebolt."

"Mr. Shacklebolt. Well, thanks for chatting," she said, sliding off his desk and walking down a few cubicles to interview another Auror. She wouldn't find anything, truly, all of the Aurors with any seniority were out hunting down Death Eaters. Sending potential Death Eaters a summons was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, but the Minister was of the belief that if they didn't flea from trial they were more likely to be innocent. Most Death Eaters would loudly declare their loyalty to their master when brought in.

Most innocent people walked into the courtroom and pled their case.

It would be interesting to see what the Minister's son was going to do.

Kingsley Shacklebolt could only consider the possibility he had gone bad. It could be true.

But it could be a lie, of course.

Neither would surprise him very much. But the public would be in an uproar with either decision. The public was never happy with any decision.

Kingsley sighed and continued his report.

--


	3. November 7th, 1981

Yay for chapter three. A lot of the second scene is inspired by the Showtime series (and book series it's based on) _Dexter. _

* * *

The Price of Victory

_November 7th, 1981_

* * *

_November 7__th__, 1981, approximately 6:45 PM, Sirius Black puts Harry to bed. _

Harry had finally started going to sleep a lot more peacefully now, he was used to Sirius being the person to tuck him in at night instead of his parents, and didn't fuss as much.

Sirius thought this was something worth celebrating, so once he and Remus were sure Harry was going to be asleep for at least another couple of hours, Sirius pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and some goblets and they had a couple of drinks.

After a few, Remus was resting his head on Sirius's shoulder, his eyes drooping closed.

"Stay awake Moony," Sirius said, jerking his arm so that Remus jolted up.

"Sorry. You know this stuff makes me sleepy."

"It's fine."

Remus yawned in response. "Do you think he'll stay asleep?"

"Not likely."

"Kids can be like that," Remus said groggily. "Did you write the Weasley's?"

"And 'Dromeda."

"Good. Any word back?"

"Not yet."

Remus slumped back onto Sirius's shoulder and was asleep within moments. Sirius just sat there quietly, watching his inebriated friend sleep.

Remus had always been a lightweight.

There was a faint tapping on the window. Sirius looked up and saw an owl, clutching a letter, tapping on the window. He sprang up without any regard for Remus sleeping on his shoulder, Remus toppled over and woke up.

Sirius opened the window and the owl flew in, waiting as Sirius removed the letter, and then flew back into the night.

"I don't recognize this handwriting, do you?" Sirius asked, showing the letter to Remus.

Remus shook his head in the negative at the writing.

Sirius opened the letter quickly. It was a neat, though masculine, cramped together sort of writing. There was only one sentence.

_Protect your brother, he needs it, free Death Eaters aren't safe._

"Who do you reckon it's from?" Remus asked.

"I…don't know."

--

_November 7th, 1981, approximately 11:45 PM, Peter Pettigrew stumbles out of a bar. _

Peter was drunker than he'd been in a while. Somehow, the alcohol drowned out the paranoia, the fear. He was going to get off! He wasn't going to Azkaban!

From behind Peter, someone put their wand to his neck and he fell, unconscious.

He had always been good at nonverbal spells.

Peter woke up, tied down to a filthy old bed by each wrist and ankle. He couldn't find his wand.

"You!" he squeaked, his blue eyes watering. "What do you want from me?"

His captor laughed, removing his hood. "Scream all you want," the youthful voice said. "Snape taught me this useful spell. No one outside of this room can hear you. I told the barman you had passed out in the street and I got us a room for the night so you could 'recover'."

"What do you want from me?"

The younger man sat down on the bed. "Revenge. I think."

"I had to stay out of Azkaban!" Peter wailed. "I had to!"

"There were scores of others taken in for questioning that didn't name names. That went to Azkaban with the pride of their actions. Why are you such a coward?" The steady voice rose to a more dangerous level. "You betrayed people that accepted you as their friend, and then you betray the _Death Eaters? _You're lucky you got me before Bellatrix found you."

Peter looked around. There was no means of escape. He was strapped down and his wand was not on his person or anywhere in sight.

"You won't go to Azkaban!" he cried.

"I know I won't. But I won't betray my people either. Unlike you, Peter, I'm smart enough to stay out of trouble without striking deals with _the enemy!" _He screamed the last four words, brandishing his wand in fury, blood splattering the walls and his robes. It was only a cut to the shoulder.

He stripped off his robes, revealing a plain white T-shirt and jeans underneath it. He ruffled his fair hair and smiled at Peter.

"Did that hurt?"

"No," Peter said defiantly.

"Oh shut up."

Peter whimpered. "I had to do it."

"What? Sell me out? Sell your comrades out? Sell Re- us out?"

"I had to!"

"No you _didn't_!"

"I'll give you anything you want, just don't kill!"

"Be quiet! That never helps anybody!" his attacker shouted. "What you did to the Potters, well, good on you. But you made enemies. You're lucky it wasn't Black or Lupin killing you! If it hadn't been for that Potter boy, it probably would've been Black. You understand this, right? But then instead of keeping a low profile, staying prudent, keeping yourself _safe. _You sell out Death Eaters! _Dangerous _ones. Like me, Peter."

"You're a fucking teenager!" Peter moaned. "You can't do this!"

"What does my age have to do with anything?"

"You're too young to be this…this…"

"Evil? Crazy?" he asked, a grin spreading over his features. "Well I am. Don't know why, don't care why. I am."

"So you're having a conversation with me before you kill me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I want you to see what you did before you die. I want you to understand." He pointed his want at different places on Peter's body. "Selling out to the Ministry is even worse than being a double-crosser. I hope you know this."

"Snape is a spy! Snape has been working for Dumbledore the entire time!" Peter sobbed.

There was another splatter of blood, this time the wound was a shallow cut across Peter's forehead. "You're doing it again!" he shouted. "I don't give a damn about Death Eaters or Order members or the Dark Lord or Dumbledore!"

"Then why-" Peter sobbed uncontrollably.

"You SOLD ME OUT! This is what I care about!" he screamed, looking rather deranged as he paced and ran his hand through his blond hair. "I have no loyalty for a dead man, but I still wouldn't sell out my partners, people I've worked along side! Not for my own safety! I'm no coward like you!"

"You would kill your best friend to keep yourself safe!" Peter yelled in response. Praying someone could hear them. But he knew that his captor's spell work would be impeccable. He would've thought of everything to cover his tracks.

"No! I wouldn't! We aren't talking about you here Pettigrew! I have some since of loyalty, unlike you. You filthy damn rodent!"

"You don't care about the Death Eaters! You're just revenging yourself! You won't get away with it!"

"Of course I'm getting revenge for myself, you idiot."

"Why do all of this just for a kill?"

"I like it. I want you to know why you're dying. It makes me feel…"

"Alive?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry," Peter moaned.

The wand waved and it was a clean cut across the throat. Blood sprayed all over the killer and the bed and the walls. Pettigrew sputtered and coughed and more blood poured. His attacked grabbed Peter's blood-soaked hand and Apparated him to Hogsmeade village, in an alleyway beside the Hog's Head Inn. Then he quickly Apparated back into the rented room in the Leaky Cauldron and went about cleaning.

He wiped the walls, the sheets, the floor. It was all covered in blood. He cleaned off the splattered robes and threw them back on, pulling the hood up and walking down to the bar.

The bartender looked at him.

"He's asleep, I figured I'd leave him be," he said briefly, leaving the Leaky Cauldron. It would make him seem a little more innocent.

Of course he didn't plan on his roommate waiting up for him.

He opened the door to the tiny flat, and saw the older, dark headed boy at the table reading a paper.

"Where have you been?"

"Fancied a drink," he said evasively. "Why are you awake?"

"It's after midnight and you weren't home, I figured I'd wait."

"Well I'm going to bed," he said uncomfortably.

"For someone who was just out for two hours supposedly drinking, you don't smell much like spirits," his roommate said, folding up the paper and exiting the tiny kitchen.

"'Night," he said wearily, going to his own bedroom and stripping off his clothes.

His shirt and pants were still covered in blood. Instead of cleaning them, he just stuffed them under his bed and made sure there were no traces on his skin, then got under his blanket and went to sleep.

He felt rather accomplished.

* * *


	4. November 9th, 1981

Yay for the trial! Thanks for reading, take the time to review if you have anything to say at all!

* * *

The Price of Victory

_November 9th, 1981_

* * *

_November 9__th__, 1981, approximately 9:00 AM, Sirius Black receives the paper_

The owl carrying the _Daily Prophet _swooped in as Sirius opened the window for it, and dropped the paper on the table. Sirius put a few Knuts in the pouch strapped to its foot and it flew off. He slammed the window shut behind it and unfurled the paper.

The coffee he had been holding fell from his hands and the cup shattered on the floor, the loud noise startled the half-asleep Harry, who began crying.

Remus ran to calm Harry down as Sirius's eyes hungrily scanned the article.

"What's up?" Remus asked once Harry stopped sobbing.

_"…Peter…"_ was all he managed to say.

Sirius waved the paper frantically, but tried to keep quiet. Remus snatched it from him and read the headline several times before he seemed to accept his eyes weren't tricking him.

_KEY WITNESS IN DEATH EATER TRIALS FOUND MURDERED_

Remus kept reading.

_In the early hours of yesterday morning a patron of The Hog's Head Inn discovered the corpse of key testifier Peter Pettigrew, his throat slit and several other, smaller wounds on his person. He was found mere hours after his body had been placed there, but law enforcement don't believe he was killed in that location due to the minimal amount of blood. Rumors are circulating that around midnight, a stranger brought a drunken Pettigrew into the Leaky Cauldron, but left half an hour or so later, claiming that Pettigrew had fallen asleep. The identity of this person is unknown, as Pettigrew was not seen with anyone that night while out drinking.  
With no information, and the fact that this killing seemed to be done in a more Muggle fashion than the Death Eater's more preferred tool of disposal (the Avada Kedavra curse) which indicates high passion or a rather morbid sense of sadism. Without any other leads, we can only speculate. Was it a faithful of Dumbledore, enraged that Pettigrew had betrayed them? Or a faithful of Voldemort, enraged at being named in Peter's feeble deal for freedom?_

_If you have any leads, the Department of Law Enforcement would be delighted to hear them. _

"He made too many enemies," Remus said, shrugging. "It was a matter of time."

Sirius just gaped at the paper. His brain had shut off, he couldn't form words.

"Today's Regulus's trial isn't it?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded in the positive.

"And Peter's body was found yesterday morning." He was pondering, then he shook his head a little, but it went unnoticed.

He nodded again. Then paused. "You think Regulus-"

"Definitely not. It could've been any named Death Eater. Regulus and his friend are at the bottom of the list, in my mind. Didn't Bellatrix carry a silver knife with her?"

"Yeah. It wouldn't surprise me at all if she did it," Sirius said. "It wouldn't surprise me a ruddy bit."

"We could nip down to the Ministry and see if they'll let us in to watch the trials if you'd like, they typically let in family for these types of things."

"Nah. We'll just wait until the papers release the result tonight or tomorrow," Sirius said, looking disinterested. "And besides, who'd watch Harry?"

"Good point, I doubt they'd appreciate a hyperactive toddler in the middle of trial."

Sirius took the paper and flipped through the rest before tossing it aside.

--

_November 9th, 1981, approximately 11:15 AM, Barty Crouch and Regulus Black arrive in Courtroom Ten._

There were two black seats in the middle. From experience, Barty knew they would chain down anyone who sat in them.

Today, the chains didn't appear. They weren't chained down or locked in. It was pleasant.

In the corner of the courtroom, with a notepad and a acid green quill balanced on her knee, was Rita Skeeter.

Barty loathed reporters.

The courtroom settled down, he saw Dumbledore sitting somewhere behind his father, beside Mad-Eye Moody.

"You have been brought before the Council of Magical Law under the accusation and suspition of Death Eater, and thus Anti-Ministry, activities," Crouch Sr. said, his voice reverberating throughout the courtroom. "Allow me to open with this; you have not, until a week ago, been accused of any Death Eater activity thus far, nor have any other confessing Death Eaters accused either of you."

Barty and his father stared at each other for a few seconds.

"Have you participated in any illegal, Death Eater or otherwise, activity?" he asked finally.

The tension in the courtroom was positively palpable.

Regulus noticed that Barty's mother was sitting with her husband, she looked as if she may cry or faint.

"No," Barty lied easily. His defenses were up. Barty knew his father would try Legilimency on him, but he was better at Occlumency than he had ever let on to his father.

He only hoped the old man would stay out of Regulus's head.

"Neither of you?" he said coldly, his pale eyes sweeping over to Regulus.

Regulus shook his head, looking haughty at the way he had been addressed.

"Minister Crouch," a soft, simpering voice that grated on Barty's last nerve spoke up.

"Yes, Madam Umbridge?" the Minister said, turning towards the voice. A short, toad like woman had raised her hand.

"We cannot simply free them because they said they aren't Death Eaters! What kind of proof is that?" she said simply.

"The lack of evidence, combined with their willingness to appear in court…there's absolutely nothing to incriminate them," he said simply. The prospect of them going free obviously disappointed the court.

She whispered something to the Minister, who considered the statement and nodded. Umbridge left the courtroom hurriedly, and then returned with two cups of tea.

"I hope you like sugar in your tea," she told them, handing them the cups and going back to her seat.

Barty elbowed Regulus and gestured to the cups, shaking his head.

No one in the Council seemed to notice the tiny motion.

Regulus and Barty were, surprisingly, not idiotic enough to fall for Dolores Umbridge's Veritaserum-in-the-tea trick. Did she not realize how obvious she had made herself look?

"Drink up, boys, dehydration is a killer!" Umbridge said with a tinkling laugh.

Barty pretended to drink it, silently vanishing it in small intervals.

Regulus did the same.

How could the Ministry of Magic have hired such moronic people?

"Alright," she said, tapping her wand on her seat. "So, we'll ask you one more time, and beg you to answer honestly, for the sake of the law and for your father," she said, looking directly at Barty. "Are either of you Death Eaters? Has either of you ever participated in Death Eater, or Anti-Ministry activities?"

Barty looked at Regulus, Regulus looked at Barty.

"No." Barty pushed his hair out of his eyes.

Umbridge looked convinced, though unwillingly so.

"And Mr. Black? Have you been involved with Death Eater activity?"

"No."

"Then you're free to go," Minister Crouch said, sighing heavily.

Barty gave the Council a winning smile, as he stood up and stretched out his muscles. He then grabbed Regulus by the wrist and pulled him out of the courtroom.

"That was too close," Regulus whispered.

"I can't believe they actually thought we'd drink that," he said in an undertone as the people in the courtroom filed out.

Regulus laughed.

Bartemius Crouch Sr. passed them, nodding in acknowledgment of his son.

Barty's mother hugged him.

Umbridge outright stared at the pair of them, as if they'd burst into flames and swear oaths to the Dark Lord if she looked at them long enough.

Regulus smiled pleasantly and Barty waved.

They decided that staying in the Ministry was not a good idea. They got on the lifts, standing in the back corner away from the Ministry wizards and got off at the Atrium. Regulus threw some gold in the huge golden fountain, and Barty sneered at him.

After leaving the Ministry, they walked the ten minute trek to their flat. When they got there, an owl was perched on their sofa, holding a letter.

"What's this?" Regulus said, walking to the owl. He took the letter and the owl flew off. "You must've left a window open Barty," he said as he opened the letter.

Barty was reading over his shoulder, but Regulus was used to that.

_Regulus,  
Since you're reading this I'm assuming your trial went well and you and your demented friend stayed clear of Azkaban. Good on you, I knew you had a little of my talent in you. You're going to be getting a flood of owls from Mother and other family members saying the same thing, and you can nearly count on a home visit from Bellatrix if she's still breathing.__As a free Death Eater, you aren't safe. Illustrated by what happened to Pettigrew yesterday, people who sneak out of the clutches of Azkaban, either by bargaining or outright lying, are in danger of a serious backlash, whether by the general public or Death Eaters who've not been put on trial.__I'm telling you this because I'd like to extend an offer to you. Remus, Harry and I are moving out of London in roughly a week. My offer is for you to stay with us, until things die down. Until the trials end, until the more dangerous of your lot is put away or killed. Basically, until I'm sure you aren't going to end up in the Prophet murdered like Peter.__Think it over, write me back.  
Sirius_

"Rubbish," Regulus snorted, chucking the letter aside.

Barty stayed quiet.

"Like I can't take care of myself," he said, sounding peeved. "Isn't it ridiculous?"

"Not really."

"What?"

Barty busied himself with getting something alcoholic to drink. Regulus going to go on one of his Sirius-related tirades if he didn't get him slightly intoxicated. "He's right. It's not safe here, maybe getting out of the picture for a while would keep you safe. And Sirius probably has the best protection to offer on his place, with that Potter boy there, you'd be safe."

"I don't need protecting!"

"Let's be honest," Barty said, getting more and more irritated. He slammed the bottle in his hands down on the counter. "Bellatrix isn't exactly fucking sunshine, Lucius backed down the second the Dark Lord died and the only reason she didn't fucking murder him was that he disappeared, and there was no need to hurt Cissa or her brat for the moron's incompetence. You won't have the leisure of up and leaving for France or wherever. Maybe you should accept that he's worried about you and accept his help. Bella, Rabastan and Rodolphus are still running about causing chaos, they'll hear about us getting off and they won't be happy. It wouldn't surprise me if they killed Pettigrew." He gritted his teeth. "You aren't safe."

"Neither are you," Regulus said, he was pleading now.

"I'll be fine. You're being offered protection, take it."

"Will you come with me?"

"Sirius hates me." He poured drinks. "He wants to protect you, not me." All he had was Muggle liquor, but there wasn't a whole lot of difference.

Regulus had been around Barty nearly everyday of his life since he was eleven. Seeing as he was twenty now, that's a good lot of time.

"How long do you think I'd have to stay?"

"I don't know, until around Christmas maybe? Or until they stop hunting Death Eaters. Whenever. That doesn't really matter."

Regulus accepted his drink and looked defeated. "If you really want me too."

"Of course I don't want you to. But I also don't want my head mounted on a plaque in Grimmauld Place if something were to happen to you, because Walburga is _looking _for an excuse to chop me up into little bits."

They both laughed a little as the first wave of drinks began to set in. After the finished off an entire bottle, Barty was sneaking back to his room.

But Regulus, of course, heard him and followed.

"You should go to bed," Barty said. Of course, getting your point across to an intoxicated Black is like trying to sing a love song to a dragon.

It doesn't work out very well.

Regulus curled up in a ball on Barty's bed, and Barty stretched out in the bit of space Regulus wasn't occupying.

"So you think I should go?" he asked, his voice slurring a little.

Barty just nodded, staring at the ceiling.

"I don't think we've been separated since we met," Regulus noted. He happened to be a rather honest drunk. It was kind of annoying.

"I don't think so either," Barty said simply.

"What'll you do while I'm gone?"

"Lie low. Get Umbridge off our trail. Watch the signs."

Regulus couldn't really understand all of this but he nodded in agreement. "Mum is going to want me to go home."

"If you go there, you'll never come back. Go with Sirius."

Regulus yawned and tried to stretched out, but ended up tumbling off the bed. "Ow."

"Are you alright?" Barty asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, standing up rubbing his head. "My head cushioned my fall."

Barty laughed, but it was cut short by Regulus stooping back down.

"What happened?" he asked, dangling a bloody white T-shirt in front of Barty. "I thought you broke the habit of killing animals."

"I did," he said, swallowing the knot in his throat. "But you know, since I'm not out with Death Eaters- the habit's kind of coming back."

"Oh…" But Regulus wasn't really buying it.

--


	5. November 13th, 1981

Yay for another chapter! For more in depth things about this story, and if you have a live journal account, i'd definitely recommend looking up the journal i keep this in, aptly called 'priceofvictory'. And I adore getting feedback so if you read, review!

* * *

The Price of Victory

_November 13th, 1981_

* * *

_November 13th, 1981, approximately 5:00 PM, Sirius Black (finally) receives a letter_

The owl flew off as soon as Sirius took the letter from it, but he wasn't paying attention to that. He opened the letter with more enthusiasm then Remus had seen from him in days.

_Sirius,_

_I'll stay with you from whenever you move until New Years. That's all I'm promising. I don't change diapers._

_Regulus._

He smiled at the last sentence and showed the note to Remus.

"Now all we need to do is find a place," Sirius said.

"With _four _bedrooms."

"He'll only be staying a month, he can sleep on the bleeding sofa."

"I'll take the sofa," Remus said. "And he can have the bedroom, it'd be unkind to drag him out with us and force him to sleep on the sofa."

Sirius shrugged. "Up to you."

"Oh, but I did get a letter last night about a cottage in Plymouth, I told the lady who owled that we'd come take a look tomorrow. You _have _to go," he added when Sirius looked skeptical. "It's mostly a Muggle area, but there are small pockets of wizards. I think the coast is a great place to raise Harry. It's just south of where the Weasleys live, as well," he continued.

"That sounds fine. How much?"

"I think she's willing to negotiate."

Sirius shrugged. "I have money, it's nothing to fret about."

"I'm going to start looking for a job soon, you should do the same."

The idea of getting a job, however unpleasant that seemed, was something that weighed heavily on Sirius's mind. He would have to, yes, but what could he get a job doing? He was probably going to get a job first, being that Remus's condition often made potential employers give the instant 'no'.

"Yeah…"

"We'd have to arrange for permanent daily care for Harry when we get to that point. But jobs can wait until things have died down," Remus continued rationally.

Sirius nodded. "That's definitely true."

Harry stood up (still a little wobbly, but he was getting better) from the floor and walked over to the couch where Remus was sitting. He was walking a lot better than he had when Sirius had first gotten him, and Dumbledore had suggested in a letter than the stress and trauma of his parents' deaths may have affected his walking, but the more he became adjusted to Remus and Sirius, the more he walked. The only problem posed by his walking now was that he was fast, and taking eyes off of him for a second could end up with Harry having a lampshade on his head or something fragile clutched in his tiny fist.

Harry pulled himself up on the couch to sit beside Remus and Sirius sat down on Harry's other side. With big eyes, Harry stared at Sirius, and then turned and stared at Remus, who smiled.

Sirius wasn't really the sentimental type, but it felt like family.

--

_November 13th, 1981, approximately 8:00 PM, Regulus Black begins packing_

"So when do you leave?"

"Whenever Sirius sends for me, I'm assuming."

Barty was pacing the length of Regulus' room as Regulus packed a large bag full of clothes and personal effects. He was irritable and paranoid. The idea of Regulus leaving for close to two months was weighing on his mind. It would be utterly lonely. But he could deal with loneliness better than he could deal with responsibility.

"Have you cleaned your room?" Regulus asked Barty. He was referring to the bloody shirt. Again.

"Can't be arsed to, more important shit to do. You sound like my mum, stop it."

Regulus shrugged. "Just wondering."

"You're more attractive than the old bag at least," he added under his breath.

Raising an eyebrow, Regulus looked at Barty. "What?"

"…Just a thought."

"Alright…"

Barty stopped pacing. "Why are you staring at me?" he asked, tilting his head a little to the side as Regulus sat on the bed.

"I dunno. I've never been called prettier than someone's mum before. It's weird."

"I'd hope I'm prettier than your mum," Barty noted.

"Definitely. I think you could even give Cissy a run for her money if we shoved you in a dress," Regulus joked.

He wondered why they were talking about this. It was…uncomfortable. True as it was, Regulus was an attractive person (by default, he found, all Blacks were attractive in some way and crazy in another) but Barty had made a point not to mention this.

Maybe it was because he was leaving.

"Barty?"

"Hm?"

"Lost you there for a second," Regulus explained.

He shook his head. "Sorry."

"I'm used to it," he replied distantly, finding a point on the wall rather interesting. "But I think I might call it a night."

"It's only eight."

"We were up late last night." This was true, they had stayed up until almost dawn for absolutely no reason at all.

"True. Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Regulus nodded and Barty shut the door behind him, sighing in relief.

What was that all about?

--

_November 13th, 1981, approximately 8:30 PM, Professor Dumbledore and Severus Snape have a conversation_

"About Pettigrew. Do you have any idea?"

"He was a fool to make himself so many enemies," Severus said disdainfully. Severus Snape normally was sallow and unhealthy in appearence, but for the past two weeks it had become steadily worse. "It could've been anyone."

"You suspect Bellatrix?"

"In Death Eater related murders of such brutality, one must always suspect Bellatrix," he asserted calmly. "Though I can think of others."

"Like?"

"Crouch. Junior, of course. But Crouch."

"He's a danger?"

"The potential is there."

"He's killed before?"

"Not that I'm aware, no. He used to gut animals for fun in his days at Hogwarts, but I think Bellatrix is our real worry. She's a fanatic. You know this, we need to protect hi- them, from the likes of her. Like we couldn't protect-"

Dumbledore looked somber. "Yes. I know." He didn't want Severus to finish the statement. "You know, above all others, the price of victory is a high one. We have made a world safe for the future. But we've lost too much. Moving on is detrimental. This boy will never be completely safe. There will be those who betray, who hide, escape the clutches of the Ministry. Bartemius is capable, yes, and unmerciful. But people _will _escape. Being careful is the key."

"And knowing this, knowing what Lupin is, knowing how utterly incompetent Black is-"

"I know all of this, and I don't believe Sirius's reckless streak to be incompetence. He's protective. He would give his life to protect the last piece of his best friend."

"That's all the boy is to Black."

"And what is he to you?" Dumbledore asked quietly, his glasses flashing. "You're not so different from Sirius. There will be help. I believe they've contacted the Weasley and Tonks families about babysitting on the full moon, and arranged home schooling for Harry at the Weasleys when he's older. I will make sure there are protective charms on each dwelling when Harry stays there for the next year or so. After the Death Eater threat has died down, as it will by no means be eliminated, that can cease, and when he's older, he'll be told."

"I don't think Black should be the one to explain it to him." Black would, in Severus's opinion, mangle the story, glorify James Potter, exaggerate and pollute the boy's mind, feed an ego that was already predisposed to be large, before he was old enough to wave a wand. Turn him into a living, breathing clone of James Potter.

"I think Remus will be the one to take that duty."

Severus never admitted that he thought Lupin was the only one with any sense at all. "Any other purpose to this meeting?"

"I think you should tell them," Dumbledore said simply. There was no need to elaborate.

"No."

"I believe you should. With a bit of influence, it's my belief they will be taking a house being offered on the outskirts of Plymouth, it's conveniently located near the Weasley home, and not a bad place to raise a child. When they get settled in there, I think you should explain yourself to them."

"Why?"

"The past two weeks have set in motion the rest of Harry Potter's life. Sirius and Remus loved James as fiercely as you loved Lily, I am of the thinking that putting this bitter teenage hatred to rest would be the best. I'm not asking you to pursue friendships with them, or be any part of Harry's raising, but make amends. Let old flames of hatred be snuffed out. Let the spark of understanding light the way."

"I'll think on it."

He would do it, Dumbledore hoped, in some strange way, Dumbledore already knew he would. Out of respect for Lily, and not because he requested it of him.

"Anything else, Dumbledore?" he asked wearily.

"Slughorn is retiring," he said. "I want you to take the job."

Snape nodded, there was no room to refuse. Realistically, he needed the job, he needed the security of the castle. "And?" He knew that could not be the last thing Dumbledore had to say.

"Go talk to Barty Crouch Jr., before you speak with Remus and Sirius, if you choose to do that."

It was not a request.

"He'll know I'm a double-agent by this point. He's not stupid. He'll tell me nothing relevant. I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to kill me."

"I don't want details about Peter. And I think that if he is the responsible party, it was not done because of treachery."

"What?"

"Revenge, Severus, often fuels the most irrational of activities. Whether it's murder or a sudden switch of sides." His twinkling blue eyes pierced Severus at that statement. "I think that in the case of Barty, who is not a suspect by any means, vengeance provides the excuse. Bellatrix, however, is a matter of betrayal. Stay clear of her, and talk to Barty."

"When?"

"Regulus will be leaving when Sirius and Remus move, to stay with his brother until the threat has died down."

"How to you obtain your information?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Sirius alerted me this morning of his request to the boy. I believe taking Regulus out of the picture will garner more truth from Barty."

"What do you want to know?" he asked dully. The idea of a Death Eater staying with Sirius, and so close to the boy, for such an extended period of time, was ridiculous, it made his blood boil. But Regulus Black was harmless.

"Where his loyalties are. They are not with us, I know this easily. But if he's a danger to anyone we need to know."

"Veritaserum won't work."

"Dolores Umbridge illustrated this. Though I'm sure your way of doing it would be far more subtle."

"I wouldn't treat the boy as if he's a moron, in other words," Severus quipped with a tired smirk.

"Yes. But I don't believe he'd be foolish enough to take a drink not prepared himself in times like these."

"He'll also not be foolish enough to talk to me about his _loyalties_," the young man said.

"You can find a way to talk to him. He's young. You shared a House with him for five years. You must know his weaknesses. Appeal to it."

"Manipulate him? I am not you Dumbledore."

The old man chuckled amiably. "I should hope not." He folded up the most recent edition of the _Prophet_. "Do as you see fit. I'm just asking you the favor of doing it. I don't think any other Order member would do it willingly, and if they did, they may just die in the attempt."

"I'm different?"

"Very."

Severus stood from his seat. "If that's all, Dumbledore, I shall return home."

"Think on all that I've said, Severus, if you'd please. _All _that I've said."

He nodded mutely, turning and leaving the office with no further statements to make. Dumbledore had asked many risky, ridiculous things of him in the past year, and a half he'd been under the employ of the Order of the Phoenix, but he thought speaking with a sociopath about his loyalties was top five, and revealing his reasons for switching sides, revealing what he had told Dumbledore, what he had told _Voldemort_, and not just telling anyone, telling Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, was the most dangerous thing that had ever been asked of him.

But the grief in his chest had not eased, he had played out so many scenarios in his head, he had tried to validate this grief. If it had been him instead of Potter, this would've never happened. If he had married Lily-

The idle fantasies of a desperate man ended there, he knew that the Lily that would haunt such fantasies would be a miserable, cold one, not the warm, happy Lily he had loved. Did love.

He didn't think that telling Black or Lupin about these things would free him of his guilt. But he owed it to Lily's memory to do her some kind of favor. If that was the favor she wanted, he would do it.


	6. November 17th, 1981

This is unbeta'd, and mostly just a short transitional chapter. It gets more action packed next chapter.

* * *

Price of Victory

_November 17th, 1981_

* * *

_November 17__th__, 1981, approximately noon, Sirius Black drops Harry off at the Weasley House_

He affectionately rubbed Harry's head before releasing his hand and giving him a push towards the Weasley matron, who had a baby girl clasped in one arm and extended a hand to Harry. Harry's green eyes grew fearful as he saw Sirius turn to leave.

"Say good-bye," Molly Weasley told him in a low voice.

Sirius quickly turned and kneeled down to eye-level with the toddler, and smiled encouragingly. It was so hard to look into those eyes. But he smiled. "I'll be back for you tonight Harry," he said in a soft voice, rubbing a calloused hand gently across Harry's cheek. "I promise. Remus and I aren't going to be gone long. Then you'll have your own room," he said.

Harry smiled at that and gave Sirius a stumbling hug.

"Molly's going to take good care of you," he said, returning the hug gently and prying himself away so he could stand. "I'm leaving him up to you. He can be quite a handful, trust me."

"I already have seven, he's probably nowhere near as hard to handle as they are, with my brothers' genes in them." For a woman of just over thirty, she looked careworn and aged by hardship, but she smiled anyway. "Have a good time moving, if you need any help at all, I'd be happy to send Arthur," she added.

"No, no, it'll be alright, Molly. Remus and I can handle it. I'm sure you're going to need all the backup you can get, anyway."

Regulus was helping them move too, but he thought he could neglect to mention this to Molly.

They had picked the house outside of Plymouth, in a village called Polhawn, when they had found out the elderly witch selling it to them was a good friend of Dumbledore's, and had told her of their situation. Even Remus's lycanthropy didn't dishearten her. She told them to pay her monthly until the value of the cottage (which was big enough for the three of them, but not huge) was totally covered. Neighbors were spread out, it was a spacious and clean neighborhood. It was close to the city but not too close, and convenient to the Burrow and the coast.

Sirius thought that they would have fun here. But he had one more stop to make before returning to his beloved flat to start the move.

--

_November 17th, also approximately noon, Barty Crouch Jr. helps Regulus get ready for his departure. _

Regulus's luggage was beside the door, and all that was left was the waiting. After the awkward exchange four days prior, they had been rather chilly to one another. The word that today would be the day for Regulus to leave had come two days ago, and since then Barty had become isolated and snappish.

"I'm supposed to be gone by one," Regulus said to Barty's closed door.

Barty looked at the clock, and opened the door.

"Oh."

"Not going to see me off?"

"I'll see you off," Barty said, scratching his chin. He looked as if he had just woken up. "You have all your things?"

"Yes. You have the address?"

He nodded. "I'll write whenever you want me to."

"Just keep me updated on anything important," Regulus said, staring at the floor. "Visitors, attacks, anything. And if you're in any kind of trouble, don't hesitate to come down to Devon."

"If they don't treat you right, I'll be in Devon without even blinking an eye."

"They'll be fine to me, don't worry about it." Regulus gave him a kind of crooked smile.

"Just keep your head."

"I never go anywhere without it," Regulus joked, sitting down on the sofa. He would miss the flat, but it was only a month and a half. Forty-four days to be exact, he had counted it.

That seemed a lot longer than it really was.

Regulus gave up and stretched his legs out, lying his head on the battered armrest and looking up at Barty. "Why have you been so stiff?" he asked suddenly.

"I haven't been."

"Don't even bother trying to lie."

Barty flinched. "I don't know. The last few days." He sighed heavily. "They've seemed really…"

"Tense," Regulus finished. "I know. Are you mad that I'm leaving?"

"No. I want you to leave. It's not about that. I don't really know what it is." Barty sat down, leaning against the side of the couch, the top of his head touching Regulus's. "I don't want you to leave but I know you have to," he clarified. "I'm just being selfish I think." Under any other circumstance, he wouldn't have said any of that. But he would be bothered to no end if he didn't say it. This was a situation that called for something more than evasiveness and less than the whole truth.

"I'm sorry." His voice had become a lot quieter, a lot softer, than he had intended. "This is hard for me too." The sofa creaked ominously as Regulus rolled over onto his stomach, his arm falling over the side of the couch where Barty was sitting.

The hand rested awkwardly on his shoulder for a second, before falling limp. Barty grabbed the hand with his own and squeezed it. "It'll be alright."

"I hope so." Regulus returned the squeeze and neither of them moved for a glorious minute, Barty's back to Regulus, holding his hand in a weirdly sentimental way.

A loud knock on the door brought them out of their stupor, and Regulus got up and rushed over, opening the door quickly.

"Hi," Sirius said, looking very uncomfortable. "You ready?" he asked.

Regulus nodded, looking back at Barty and then grabbing his bag.

"Bye," he said sadly to his friend, who finally stood and walked over.

Barty reached out a hand to grab Regulus's shoulder, but Regulus turned around and Barty's hand fell uselessly. "Bye," he whispered, and Regulus hugged him.

Sirius made gagging motions behind his brother's back and Barty shot him a rather rude hand gesture.

"I'll write when we get settled in," Regulus told him.

"Right."

"Don't let the place get too filthy."

"I will," Barty said as the two brothers finally made their way out into the corridor.

"Bye."

Something in his last brief look had ignited something in Barty, he realized as he shut the door. The hug hadn't, the brief, unusual spell of handholding hadn't, but that last, downcast look had lit some sort of spark.

Forty four days seemed like a really long time.

But was it long enough to figure out something Barty had minimal experience with?

Something like real, genuine feelings?

--

_November 17th, 1981, approximately 1:30 PM, Remus Lupin (finally) gets everything packed_

Remus looked around the bare sitting room proudly, admiring his handiwork. He had managed to shrink every piece of furniture in the place and pack them into boxes. Each box was labeled to indicate what room all the furniture in it was going it. Remus had to have separate boxes for all of Sirius's pictures and posters and books.

He had managed to fit their entire life into seven boxes.

Remus stopped to wonder when they had stopped living separate lives.

The door opened and Sirius flounced in, following by Regulus, who was walking with noticeably less flourish.

"Bang up job on the packing, Remus," he said, lifting one of the small boxes. "This won't take long to Floo to the new place at all!"

"I didn't think so either. But aren't you flying your motorcycle out there?" Remus asked him.

"Yeah?"

"Well then you can take a few on your motorcycle, and your brother and I can Floo the rest. It'll take less trips."

"Right then. I can do that, I suppose."

Remus gave Sirius the things that were the least fragile, and told him to get a head start.

"You got rid of him quickly," Regulus noted, shifting the bag on his shoulder and carefully picking up one of the remaining boxes.

"It's a long fly, and not a long Floo. I figured by the time he actually got there, we could have your room set up and you wouldn't really have to deal with him."

"I don't mind dealing wi-"

"It's been five years," Remus said simply. "And Sirius can be hard to swallow. You should have some time to yourself to adjust, I think. This will be different. I don't think you and your brother should become best mates immediately. And a young child in the picture doesn't help-" Remus paused. "I know he's a fucker, but you should give him a chance."

Regulus laughed. "I guess I have to."

"He cares, you know. Even though he pretends not to."

He just rolled his eyes.

"Let's get all of this stuff to the new place. The address is 'Number Seven Pits Lane'," he said as Regulus grabbed some of the Floo powder and walked to the fireplace. He clambered in and recited the destination, disappearing in a whirl of flames.

Remus grabbed the remaining two boxes, and did the same (with a bit of difficulty), and climbed out of the fireplace that led to the empty sitting room of the little house they were going to be living in.

"It's bigger than the flat," Regulus noted.

Remus looked through his boxes and found the one labeled 'Remus', setting down the other and walking to one of the bedrooms.

"You're going to sleep in my room," he told Regulus, opening the door and gesturing for Regulus to follow him. He opened the box and pulled out the tiny furniture. He set it the general positions he had in mind for his room and returned them to their normal size. Then he walked to the wardrobe and pulled all of his clothes out of it. "So put your clothes in there, I can put mine in your brother's room or leave them in the sitting room."

"You don't have to-" Regulus started.

"Just do it," Remus said simply. "I'll be fine on the sofa."

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."

Regulus handed over the box he had been holding somewhat awkwardly, and then hurried to putting his assorted clothes in the now empty wardrobe.

He had been carrying Harry's things, and so Remus went to setting up that room next. It was across the sitting room from his bedroom, but adjoined to Sirius's. He put the crib on the opposite wall from a large window, and pulled out an endless number of toys and put them in some kind of order.

He took a break, sitting on the dark red carpet of the sitting room and just relaxing a little. The remaining box they had brought was Sirius's bedroom, which he would let Sirius set up himself.

After about a quarter of an hour, the low rumble of an engine indicated that Sirius had arrived. The man in question burst inside and began setting up the kitchen/dining area with no hesitation. It only took him about five minutes, and he began working on the sitting room with the same kind of wanton enthusiasm.

Remus would have to rearrange after a good night's sleep.

Sirius left the bathroom box with Remus and went about doing his bedroom.

He clambered up onto the newly regrown sofa and began dozing nearly instantly. He didn't feel Sirius drape a blanket over him or hear him leave to go get Harry, but when he awoke later that night he heard Sirius creeping out of Harry's room, back into his own.

Smiling to himself as he fell back asleep, Remus felt a strong surging of affection for 'that fucker' Sirius Black.

* * *


	7. November 20th, 1981

Hooray for a new chapter! As always, if you're reading and enjoying, please please please leave me a review. I'm not demanding or anything, but I love getting them! Anywho, this chapter gets a little...well, there are allusions to racier subjects. Sadly enough for you slash fangirls, it's not what you're hoping for. Anywho, I think Snape will reappear in the next couple of chapters, and then of course we'll have some action soon! (Real action, not pervy action. Well, there may be some of that) Okay, getting back onto subject. Please excuse my long stupid note.

* * *

The Price of Victory

November 20th, 1981

* * *

_November 20th, 1981, approximately 9:00 PM, Barty makes a (bad) decision _

It had been three days since Regulus left.

Barty hadn't quite adjusted.

He liked the quiet, he liked being alone, in most cases, for as much of his life as he could remember, he had always chosen being alone over being in the company of others.

Except Regulus. He would pick hanging out with Regulus over being alone any day. But Regulus was the only one.

Barty didn't seek out company or physical contact or comfort often.

Tonight he was comforting himself with drinks.

He wasn't lonely, he was bored.

Subsequently, he wasn't seeking company in the dark, dingy bar, he was seeking entertainment.

There was a blonde woman sitting three seats down from him. He knew her, her name was Lilac Brown. She was pretty by conventional standards and had been a Gryffindor a few years above him. She was about twenty-three and had a daughter, about eighteen months old.

He had first met Lilac Brown at the Hog's Head late in his stay at Hogwarts, either at the end of his sixth year or the beginning of his seventh.

1979, either way.

Then, she had been insecure and thought she may have rushed into her marriage with a Muggleborn named Jeremy Brown.

Barty thought that when women were insecure, they were easy.

Things had happened, of course, and then he didn't see her again. He heard someone saying, about a month after their encounter, that she was pregnant.

Now she was back at Hog's Head and eyeing him.

"Do I know you?"

He nodded.

"Enlighten me," she said, sliding down a few seats to sit next to him.

"We met here about two years ago," he said. "Barty Crouch," he added.

"Oh. I remember you," she said with a coy smile. "You've been in the news a lot."

"I hope you aren't mistaking me with my father."

"No, no. You and your friend. About a week ago I think. It was all anyone could talk about."

He ordered another firewhisky and shrugged.

She put her hand on his arm.

"We should go back to your place," she said quietly. "I'd offer mine. But I have a husband and a baby at home."

"Why aren't _you _home?" he asked. He hated irresponsible parents.

"He offered to take care of her for the night, I had to 'work late'," she said, raising her eyebrow, like he was supposed to be impressed with her lie.

He wasn't.

Barty finished his drink and walked out of the pub, Lilac following rather closely behind. He stopped to let her catch up and she grabbed his arm. He realized he would have to take her in Side-Along Apparition to get her to his flat.

He considered changing his mind, shaking her off and going home alone.

But he reasoned that it would take his mind off Regulus.

They Apparated directly into the flat, and once they had caught their breath, she turned on him.

Truth be told, he had to give her points for being aggressive. She kissed him hard, drawing up to her full height (being considerably shorter than he) and even making him stumble backwards. He returned the kiss with fake enthusiasm and grabbed for the nearest doorknob.

The two of them didn't break the kiss as the fell into the next room, but after another minute of standing in the doorway, she pulled away and examined the room. With an air of certainty, she forced Barty back onto the bed and crawled on top of him.

Truthfully, Barty could live without sex. Not many men his age could say that, but he didn't care for it. It was too…intimate, too candid, it was messy and undignified. He could somewhat appreciate the female form, of course, but only certain types.

He was partial to Bellatrix Lestrange.

Or had been, since she was probably out for his blood by now.

"Are you even paying attention to me?" she whispered huskily, dragging a long nail down his chest. Apparently he had lost his shirt.

He couldn't exactly say 'no I was thinking about my best friend's murderous cousin, who I'd much rather be shagging', so he smirked and said, "I'm enjoying myself."

"You're pretty quiet about enjoying yourself," she said in his ear.

"Is that a problem?"

"No. Just strange."

He made a conscious effort to sound as enthralled as he wasn't from then on. He didn't need her to leave the situation thinking he was some kind of freak. The last time he had made up for it with enthusiasm, but he had only been seventeen.

In the past two years since then, he had discovered he quite preferred males.

But he didn't want to seem like some freak.

She was trailing kisses down his abdomen, which he liked simply for the fact she wasn't in his face. He wondered about Regulus.

She unzipped his trousers and pulled them off, throwing them onto the floor. He reached out with much conviction, and pulled off her shirt.

Leaning in and kissing him again, she smiled. "It's alright if you're thinking about someone else."

The fact that he was thinking about Regulus made this statement extremely strange.

For a few minutes there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the squeaking of his mattress. After a while of that, Barty grabbed the blonde and pushed her down against the mattress.

"Feisty."

"I was just getting bored," he said quietly. She probably wasn't listening, she didn't respond.

--

_November 20th, 1981, approximately 9:45 PM, Sirius Black makes some tea_

He knocked gently on the locked door. "Regulus, you awake?"

"Yes."

"Want some tea?" he asked.

Regulus had rarely come out of his room in the three days he had spent there. Occasionally he would have lunch with Remus and Sirius, but usually they ended up just putting his meals in the room and leaving him be. Remus said that he was just trying to adjust to a new environment.

"Sure." The door opened and Regulus stood there, looking sleepy and a little disheveled. Sirius handed him the tea, but before Regulus could close the door and retreat back into his room, Sirius stepped inside.

They had only spoken very briefly since he had arrived.

Regulus sat down on his bed, and Sirius pulled up a chair.

"I know you probably think this sucks."

"It's not that bad," he contradicted.

"But keeping yourself locked up in your room for the next month isn't going to help."

"I know…"

"I only offered to take you in because I thought I could help in some way."

Regulus looked at Sirius. "I came because Barty wanted me to."

"You set a lot by what he says?"

"You do the same with Lupin," Regulus pointed out. "You're just the last person I thought I'd end up living with."

"It was the safest option," Sirius said seriously. "Bellatrix knows where everyone in the family lives, except me. Nobody knows where we are right now, except Dumbledore. So you're safe."

Regulus didn't respond, but chewed on his lower lip a little. "I changed my mind."

"What?"

"After I joined the Death Eaters…I changed my mind, after a year. But there's nothing I could've done to escape that would've made a difference. I would've just died for no reason other than my own bad decision."

"You haven't told anybody this?"

"No. I didn't know how Barty would react. And any other Death Eater would've just killed me on the spot. He doesn't handle traitors well."

Sirius frowned. "I was always sorry I had to leave you there. You could've come with me."

"I would've rather not been disowned," he said steadily. "And I got over it."

They sat there awkwardly, Regulus sipped his tea and studied the room. "After all these years, I kind of feel like I understand what you were saying to me when I was a kid."

"Yeah?"

"I think so. It's just pointless violence. We're all human, some people are better than others, but that doesn't mean lesser people deserve to die."

Sirius sighed. "Close enough."

The younger Black brother didn't question his response. "So what's with you and Lupin?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you two are raising a kid together, and live together…"

"We're best mates!"

"You could've asked any woman to help you, and yet you got help from Lupin."

"I'm not bent, Regulus!" Sirius said, but he was grinning. "And you have no room to talk, you've been living with Crouch since you left Hogwarts. Not to mention you've never had a girlfriend."

"Well, I'm not bent either," Regulus said. "I just don't care about girls."

"Which makes you so utterly gay."

"He's my best friend. That's _all_!"

"The more you defend yourself, the more obvious it is."

"Right. The day you admit your undying love for Lupin, I'll start fancying Barty."

Sirius stood. "Consider it a deal."

"I thought you weren't gay."

He shrugged. "I still think you are."

"I am if you are," Regulus said evenly, trying not to laugh.

His brother left, shutting the door carefully behind him. In the living room, Remus was on his couch/bed reading a book.

"Heading to bed, Sirius?" Remus asked, not looking up.

"Yeah, g'night, Remus," he said.

"'Night, Sirius," Remus said with a yawn.

Sirius shut his bedroom door, moving across the room to his bed, and flopping down unceremoniously. Maybe he really did like Remus as more than just a friend? He'd have to figure it out some other time. It could wait until they weren't in any imminent danger from deranged Death Eaters.

As he drifted off to sleep, he realized how lonely his bed was.

* * *


	8. November 22nd, 1981

A/N: this chapter took a while simply because I was kind of busy. Real life is so hectic! Expect a lot of good stuff in the next couple of chapters though. This one is relatively short, really

* * *

The Price of Victory

_November 22nd, 1981_

* * *

_November 22__nd__, 1981, approximately 7:00 PM, Regulus writes a letter_

Regulus stared at the blank piece of parchment, as if he expected the letter to write itself, and finally sighed, dipping his quill into a small vat of black ink.

_'Barty, _(he thought putting 'Dear' would sound girly)

_How are you? I hope you're staying out of trouble. It's relatively quiet here, and since I can't leave the house, there's not a whole lot to do, other than talk to my brother, which isn't really much fun at all. _

_Write back soon, _

_Regulus A. Black'_

After letting it dry for a few minutes, he furled up the letter and sealed it carefully, then tying it to the waiting leg of the large barn owl sitting on his desk. The owl flew off when he was sure the letter was secure, and Regulus shut the window behind it, looking around to see that someone had slid him in a tray of sandwiches.

He smiled and picked the tray up off the floor, setting it on the desk and taking a seat.

--

_November 22nd, 1981, approximately 7:40 PM, Barty returns to the scene of the crime_

When he walked into the Hog's Head, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. There was a rather burly brunette talking to the barman, but that was typical, and Barty didn't think much of it. The man was holding a copy of the _Daily Prophet _and pointing at something on the front page.

Barty didn't notice the white haired barman give a subtle nod in his direction, nor did he notice the burly man look at him. He finally took notice when two men, considerably larger than he, sat down on either side of him.

He ordered a drink but before the barman could fetch it, the two men grabbed him by the upper arm and bodily pulled him out of the bar. Barty wasn't particularly big or tall, and the two men dwarfed him totally.

"You're a bit younger than I thought you'd be," someone said from behind where he was struggling to free himself.

"Who are you?" he asked, wishing desperately he could reach his wand.

The man finally came into view. It wasn't a Death Eater or even anyone that Barty couldn't have taken care of in a duel.

Jeremy Brown.

"So we finally meet," he said, coming face-to-face with Barty. "I do hope you had fun fucking my wife," he added, smirking a little.

"Not as much fun as she did," Barty said cheekily.

The older man punched him in the jaw.

Barty had absolutely no concept of Muggle dueling, the only thing he really knew was that his attacker would have never had a chance in a fair fight with him. He had to give the man credit for being smart enough to know that Barty would win if he had access to his wand.

A boot embedded itself in his ribs and Barty crumpled, held up only by the grip on his arms. He gasped for breath.

"Well at least you enlisted good help," he muttered. "You know I'd have no problem beating you if I had my wand."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you Death Eater bastards have a few nasty tricks up your sleeves. It's just a necessary precaution."

Barty rolled his eyes. "And you Mudblood swine beat up teenagers, at least I have an honor-code," he countered sharply. Another fist collided with his face and he felt his nose break.

Ironically, Barty was terrible with healing spells.

"You do realize I'm a masochist right," Barty said conversationally. "I love pain," he added tauntingly.

He would swear on his mother's grave that he felt two of his ribs break with the next kick.

--

_November 22nd, approximately 8:20 PM, Severus Snape visits Godric's Hollow _

It felt childish, it felt absolutely ridiculous. He was sitting in front of the freshly dug earth, staring at the marble. Trying to think of something to say.

"I…" he said, his voice cracking slightly. What was he doing, talking to a corpse? "I'm sorry." He let out a sigh of relief. "This is all my fault, Lily."

No answer, of course.  
"I should've listened to you when we were fifteen," he added. "I was stupid."

The wind rustled a few branches behind him, and he shivered. Severus held back tears valiantly, biting down on his lower lip. "I should've- I don't know- told you about Pettigrew before you trusted him with something like that. I shouldn't have told Voldemort about the prophecy. This is all my fault," he said, tears finally breaking through.

He stood up, wiping his eyes, and sighed deeply, but he didn't walk away for several moments.

"Severus?" someone said quietly behind him.

He jolted, turning around quickly. "Oh…Frank, Alice," he said tersely.

"What are you doing here?" the brown-haired man, Frank Longbottom, asked quietly.

"Just…paying my respects," he muttered.

"We finally got away from Neville long enough to do the same, at least since the funeral," Alice said, smiling weakly at Severus.

He hadn't even gone to the funeral. He didn't think he'd be welcome.

"It's hard," she said to him quietly, her blue eyes piercing him. "But the world can be a better place now," she continued. "We just have to try really hard to make it that way."

Severus nodded miserably and turned to leave.

"Our losses may have been huge," Frank said, just loud enough so that Severus could hear it over the wind. "But it made the victory correspondingly huger."

Severus pushed the kissing gate open and walked out of the cemetery.

--

_November 22nd, 1981, approximately 9:00 PM, Sirius makes an invitation _

Remus groaned as he stood up.

"You alright, Moony?" Sirius asked from the kitchen table, where he was composing a letter.

"My back hurts," Remus replied, walking over to his friend. "From the couch. But it's nothing serious."

"You could just transfigure it bigger," Sirius said.

"It still wouldn't be comfortable," Remus joked, hovering over Sirius's shoulder. "Who're you writing?"

"Marlene, the next Order meeting is in a few days, and I was hoping we could make arrangements to bring Harry with us," he said, scratching his chin with the tip of his quill. "I don't want to shove him off on the Weasley's or Andromeda for a two hour meeting."

He nodded in agreement. "And I doubt Regulus would want to watch him."

"Exactly," Sirius said, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm sure all the girls will be fawning over him. Didn't Alice and Frank bring Neville once or twice?"

"I think once, but they let Augusta baby-sit mostly."

Sirius repressed a shudder of fear at the name 'Augusta'. Augusta was Frank's mom, and quite feisty for a woman in her sixties. Back when he and the others had been at Hogwarts with Frank, Augusta had beaten Sirius over the head with her handbag for asking her to let him borrow her favorite vulture stuffed hat. Augusta Longbottom was renowned for being tough, which (Sirius believed) was highly indicated by her choice of friends; Augusta happened to be very close with Minerva McGonagall, whom she had gone to school with.

Professor McGonagall had similarly threatened to hex Sirius on several occasions, though the threat was good enough to silence Sirius and James.

"We should probably tell Regulus, yeah?" Sirius said finally.

Remus nodded. "Tomorrow over breakfast." He then straightened and stretched his back again. "This going to be a rough next month," he muttered.

"Hey Remus…" Sirius started, a little awkwardly.

"Hm?"

"Well, since your back is hurting so bad and…well, I was thinking, my bed's big enough for both of us…"

Raising an eyebrow, Remus studied his friend carefully. "Really?"

"Yeah. We could…I don't know, just share it until Regulus leaves," he said.

Pondering this very carefully, Remus sat down on the sofa. Sirius had been one of his best friend's for close to a decade, what harm could it do? If there was actually enough room, it wouldn't be uncomfortable for either of them. "Sure. It's only a month, right?" He laughed slightly, and Sirius's posture relaxed.

"Right, just a month. It'll be over before you know it."


	9. November 25th, 1981

Yay chapter nine!

* * *

The Price of Victory

_November 25th, 1981_

* * *

_November 25__th__, 1981, approximately 6:00 PM, the Order of the Phoenix has a meeting_

They had only been there for twenty minutes or so. Everyone had fussed over Harry (Marlene had even burst into tears, but that was because of her friendship with Lily) and even Mad-Eye had stopped to appreciate him. Sirius was pleased that Harry didn't seem the least bit alarmed by Mad-Eye's appearance, the toddler just smiled at the scarred Auror and remained clinging to Sirius's leg.

Now they were all sitting around a large table, Harry squirming in Sirius's lap.

"Our biggest worry right now is the Lestrange family," Mad-Eye barked. "Has anyone gotten anything on them?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged concerned glances.

"They've been lying low," Emmeline Vance spoke up. "There's no telling what they're planning. But it'll probably be bad. They won't be able to resist waiting much longer, either."

"And who's been trailing the Crouch kid?"

A black-haired witch named Hestia Jones raised her hand.

"Anything?"

"As far as I can tell, he's spotless. He's just some kid, honestly."

"Why are you tailing him?" Sirius asked sharply. This was suspicious. He thought that Regulus and Barty had successfully shaken off the Ministry.

"We aren't," Mad-Eye said. "This Ministry is tailing him. We're keeping tabs on the Ministry. Corruption doesn't seem too far out of the common way for Crouch Sr., and this new Under Secretary, Umbridge or whoever, is just as bad as he is."

"So the Ministry still thinks he's a Death Eater?" Remus asked.

"And we _know _he's a Death Eater. But we don't know if he's a danger or not," Mad-Eye said curtly. "We'll find out sooner or later," he added, his eyes darting to the far end of the table.

Sirius had only just noticed Snape, who nodded at the acknowledgement. Sirius narrowed his eyes. Snape had only joined up a few months before Lily and James had died, and while Dumbledore insisted he had reformed- Sirius wasn't buying it.

"In that same vein," Mad-Eye said, his magical eye swiveling over towards Sirius and Remus. "Your brother?"

"Is no danger to anyone," Sirius replied firmly.

"Right." Mad-Eye nodded slightly. "Good."

--

_November 25th, 1981, approximately 6:45 PM, Regulus receives a letter_

Regulus was curled up in a huge red armchair with a copy of the _Evening Prophet. _Sirius and Remus hadn't gotten home yet, and he was happy for the peace and quiet. His contentment was interrupted, however, by a tapping on one of the sitting room windows.

It was a large black owl, with a scroll clutched in one of its feet.

He got up, walking over and letting the owl in. It flew inside, and he took the scroll. The huge owl perched itself on the back of Regulus's chair while Regulus looked for an identifier of who this letter was for.

The Black Family crest was stamped on the outside of the parchment, so he opened it. It's not as if his mother or Aunt Druella or Uncle Cygnus would be writing to Sirius.

_My Dearest Regulus,  
The past few weeks, I can understand, have been very hard for you. You've been in the newspapers and in dreadful trouble. All I must say is please, Regulus, come home where you belong. Grimmauld Place has been so lonely since your father passed, and your absence is the most regrettable.  
I know how fond you are of that Crouch boy, but I'm of the belief that if you weren't so attached to him in the first place you wouldn't be in this kind of trouble. I just want my only son safe. The Crouch family has been rolling in mud for the past decade and the Minister's actions towards the Death Eaters (who are, if you need reminding, your friends and family!) just puts the 'Blood Traitor' seal on it. I know you don't want to be associated with unfavorable people like that.  
I hope to see you soon.  
Your Mother;  
Walburga Black_

Regulus had been dreading this. He was curious as to how the owl found him, but realized it had probably stopped at he and Barty's flat and Barty had sent it.

Getting up again, he stretched and walked over to the small desk where Lupin kept the parchment and quills. He sat down and rummaged around a bit, getting a piece that was in decent condition and uncapping a vat of ink. He forced down a bit of bitterness at her insinuations about Barty, and her referring to him as her 'only son'.

_Dear Mother,__  
It's regrettable that I can't return to Grimmauld Place at this present point in time. Since the trial, the Ministry has been keeping a close watch on our flat to catch us in our lie. If I were to abruptly move out, the Aurors may think it suspicious enough to be grounds for a second inquiry. I'll keep myself out of trouble, I do promise.__  
I'll be home for Christmas, I promise.__  
Send my regards to Kreacher, and the cousins.__  
With Love,  
R.A.B._

He folded the letter, and gave it to the waiting owl. The owl flew off without hesitation, and Regulus sank back down in the armchair.

The fireplace sprung to life, and Sirius clambered out, holding a maniacally giggling Harry in his arms.

He smiled at Regulus as he crossed the living room to (presumably) put Harry to bed. Remus emerged a mere couple of seconds later, sitting down on the sofa after dusting the stray ash off of his robes.

"How are you, Regulus?" he asked with a soft smile.

"I'm fine," Regulus said. "How about yourself?"

"Just fine," he said casually. Sirius reemerged after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, chuckling to himself.

"Who's the letter from?" he asked, spotting the parchment on the desk.

Frowning, Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, preparing for Sirius's attack. "Mother."

"…Oh. What did she want?" Sirius asked, looking troubled.

"For me to return to Grimmauld Place."

Taking a seat, Sirius studied his younger brother interestedly. "What did you tell her?" he inquired.

"I told her I couldn't return due to the fact that Barty and I have Aurors monitoring us for suspicious behavior, and it would be very suspicious for me to move out so abruptly."

Sirius and Remus exchanged concerned glances, but didn't comment.

"It can't be far from accurate, Barty wasn't convinced the Ministry bought our excuses."

"It isn't. They're tailing Crouch as we speak."

Regulus looked alarmed.

"But we have people to make sure they do nothing," Remus added. "It's nothing to worry about."

--

_November 25th, 1981, approximately 8:00 PM, Severus Snape makes a house call_

Severus took a deep breath, gripping his wand tightly in one hand as he raised the other and knocked.

The door flew open. "Who is it?" someone called faintly from inside.

"Snape."

"Get inside and shut the door," Barty commanded.

Severus did as he was asked, shutting the door quietly and walking into the flat. He saw Barty stretched out on the sofa and walked into the sitting room.

"What happened to you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Barty was looking particularly…well, he looked like hell. There was a dark purple bruise covering his right eye and up his forehead, his right wrist had been clumsily splinted, and his nose was obviously broken.

"I made an enemy with big friends," he muttered weakly, wincing and touching his ribs.

"Why didn't you heal it yourself?"

He shook his head mutely, trying to pull himself into a sitting position. "Can't…" was all he managed to say before he groaned loudly and fell back.

"I can try," Severus said, feeling inexplicably sorry for the younger boy. "Hold very still," he said, pulling his wand out of his robes and kneeling down in front of the couch.

"Why are you helping me?" Barty asked as Severus muttered a few spells under his breath. "You serve Dumbledore now." He found his ability to speak was much improved now that his ribs were mended.

Severus ignored his question. "You'll still be stiff for a few days," he said.

"Why are you helping me?" Barty repeated, sitting up.

"I need to ask you something," he replied loftily.

"Why should I tell you? You betrayed the cause."

"Many consider you and Regulus escaping Azkaban to be betrayal," Severus said curtly, standing and dusting off his robes.

"Touché, what do you want of me?"

He had resigned himself to honesty. "Dumbledore sent me to ask you of your loyalties."

Barty laughed bitterly, still clutching his aching ribs. "I have no loyalty."

"None?"

"I didn't switch sides when the Dark Lord died," he said calmly. "I just lost the side I was on. So I have no side. I'm loyal to myself."

"You're loyal to Regulus," Severus corrected, turning to leave. "If he wasn't holding your hand you'd be out with Bellatrix murdering Muggles."

"And if Voldemort hadn't murdered your 'love', so would you."

Severus snarled, and promptly left the flat, the door slamming behind him loudly.


End file.
